


Fallen on Hard Times

by Voib



Series: Tumblr Prompts [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, asylum AU, conversion therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 11:31:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15023633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voib/pseuds/Voib
Summary: Dean was 17 when he was whisked off to his first conversion camp by his father. With his mother dead when he was just 4 years old, he had no one to defend him other than his little brother Sam. The first place, Camp Adler, was hidden in friendly words and happy counselors. Dean learned soon enough what they really did at that camp and what they really wanted out of him.





	Fallen on Hard Times

**Author's Note:**

> This was written under a prompt, and thus, not my idea. This fic has some ableist words that I would not have used otherwise, but because Supernatural is a 'mainstream' show, Dean's character is often portrayed saying words like the ones mentioned. I'm sorry if it offends! 
> 
> Also, I didn't mention queer women in this fic because that's how the 60's were -- full of erasure and denial and stuck in the binary.

The 1960’s were a strange time. The Cold War was in full swing, civil rights were being questioned, presidents assassinated, but Dean was still left to grow up in the changing times. He was born when the Korean War had started, but he was at an age where the world had resumed its ability to flourish in the suburbs. 

Of course, while foreign policy had made the US stable enough to grow, the US had had it’s inner turmoil. 

Dean was 17 when he was whisked off to his first conversion camp by his father. With his mother dead when he was just 4 years old, he had no one to defend him other than his little brother Sam. The first place, Camp Adler, was hidden in friendly words and happy counselors. Dean learned soon enough what they really did at that camp and what they really wanted out of him. 

Eventually, Dean left the camp after 3 months and he was deemed ‘safe for the public’. What they didn’t know was that putting a bunch of queer boys together in one cabin was a ‘bad idea’. 

Dean left the camp with minimal scarring. They just preached about the Bible and put extra emphasis on certain verses. Dean was happy to leave. 

The next time that Dean got caught making out with Aaron from next door, he was 20 and was still living under his father's roof. Now that he wasn’t a teen, his father had sent him to an adult camp. 

Dean didn’t know what to expect, but when the camp bus entered the razor wire fences, Dean knew he needed to get out of there. Dean would have rather taken a few nights in a jail and a social lack of social life than a penitentiary. 

The blood red brick buildings left him with a haze in his eyes. He was pushed off the bus along with 4 other men who were all of various ages. Here, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere Alabama, Dean decided that people were wrong about their social stigmas. 

The first thing that they were forced to do was to go through a primal looking metal detector to determine if they were ‘safe’. Some of the men that he had been bussed in with looked like they had been here before. Dean didn’t want to become one of them. 

Dean was set up in room 67 where the cell-like room was nearly worse than an actual jail cell. There were scratchings on the wall that said things like ‘I am a sinner and I am wrong’ and ‘god is wrong’. Many of them made contradicting statements towards each other and Dean couldn’t tell if they were made by the same person or not. 

Dean really didn’t want to be in this nuthouse. 

Dean set his sparse bag on the lumpy bed and started changing into the uniform he was given. The rough fabric scratched his body and felt like it was giving him rug burn. 

A printed schedule was slipped under his door when he was changing. He picked it up and glanced it over before slipping it into the breast pocket of his scrubs. 

He left his room and wandered down the hall. The people hadn’t given him any shoes so his bare feet slapped against the cold tile floor. The first thing on his schedule said that he’d be meeting with the nurses to give him a mix of medications to cure his ‘illness’. That meant that he needed to find room 124. 

The halls were so empty that it began to leave Dean feeling sick and dizzy, like he’d spun in too many circles. Somehow he’d found a room 123, but no 124. 

So Dean gave up. He didn’t want to take any kind of crazy pills anyway that would leave him even more loopy and confused. Dean sank down in the hall and cradled his head in his arms, letting a few silent tears escape. 

Wherever he was, there was no one with him and he enjoyed the silence even though it would begin to make him go crazy after a month. 

Dean saw the pamphlet for this place: there was a 3, 6 and 12 month option. Dean was pretty sure that his father had chosen 12. 

God. Dean really hated his father right now. 

The cool of the hall eventually got to him and he started to shiver. His tears had cooled over his skin and made him feel sticky with salt. He tried to sit up but he felt too dizzy. His head was swimming with thoughts and pain. 

Dean eventually stood up and started to wonder down the hall again. He hoped that no orderlies were looking for him and that they’d just forgotten about him already at the medication distribution room. 

He made his way deeper down the hall, opposite of where he’d come from, until he found a door that didn’t look like the others. The wooden door, which was cracked open, had a golden plaque on it with the name ‘Doctor Novak’. Dean was just smart enough (dumb enough?) to crack the door open further and try to enter the room. 

Dean was greeted with the broad back of a man in a lab coat who was hunched over a typewriter. The man turned around in confusion when he heard the door creak open. He startled at the sight of Dean but then stood up from his chair. 

Dean, now wide-eyed, looked at the man in confusion before he spoke, “Who are you?” 

The man stared back, just as shaken as Dean was. “Doctor Novak.” Just like the door said. He hesitated, “Who are you?” 

Should Dean answer truthfully? The man standing in front of him was [art of the whole regime that wanted him dead for just existing. Dean looked into his pleading blue eyes and decided to tell the truth. “I’m Dean, Dean Winchester. I just got here and I’m really lost.” 

“What are you being treated for?”

Dean cleared his throat, “Uh. I guess I’m too friendly with guys.” Dean let his gaze fall to the ground out of shame. 

“Don’t worry, Dean,” _Oh great — here comes the ‘we’ll cure you’ speech —_ “I can get you out of here.” 

Dean looked up in surprise, “What do you mean?”

Novak pursed his lips. “I’ve been working here for 13 years and I’m the main reason why they have so many escapees. I can help you get out of here and help you build a new life.” Novak turned to his desk and pulled out a newspaper clipping. The title read: _HOPKINS ASYLUM CLOSING IN SPRING._

Novak placed the clipping down and then continued, “This place is about to go under and I believe that you’re going to be my last patient. I can get you new IDs and a steady job, if you’ll let me.” 

Dean’s head swam with the new information, but he felt his mouth saying “Yes.” If he could start over in a new town with a clean slate, then he could be out of the control of his father and out from under the scrutiny of the asylum. 

He could be _free_. 

**Author's Note:**

> I've never been inpatient in a facility before, so this fic is definitely dramatized. 
> 
> [If you want to know what I've been working on to take up all of my time, check it out right here! I made it myself :' )](https://dchrchallenge.tumblr.com/post/173913029971/welcome-to-the-first-annual-deancas-historical)
> 
> [Want a prompt filled? Check out my tumblr!](https://origin-void.tumblr.com)


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